The Yanti

by Christopher Pike

  “If you wish to go on living, you have to do what I say,” Mr. Havor said.

  “He lies,” Nira said. “The life he promises you is no life at all, just a continuation of this hellish existence you find yourself trapped in. Do what you know to be right, and I promise you’ll be free of this rotting body and this dark place. You will return to the light, where you belong.”

  Terry came to a decision. He turned toward Mr. Havor, slowly began to approach him. The man looked shocked, but he was still physically blind. It was not easy for him to try to escape.

  “The power to override our compulsions doesn’t exist at this level,” he stammered.

  Nira smiled a little girl’s smile. “You had your chance, Uncle Havor, when I used to sit on your lap. You should’ve fed me poison, instead of all of that wonderful ice cream.”

  “But . . .”

  Terry swung his machete. Cindy caught a glimpse of a flying head, a fountain of dark blood, heard the sound of a corpse striking the ground. No, there were two thuds. Briefly, she shut her eyes to block out the gruesome attack, but then reopened them to see what had become of Terry.

  The boy lay on his back beside Mr. Havor’s headless torso. In a mysterious way, his face looked peaceful. The opposite was true for Mr. Havor. There was only horror in the empty eye sockets of the dead man’s skull.

  Casually, Nira turned back to the colored doors.

  “Now the fun begins,” she said.

  The secret inside the package was, of course, a fairy sword. But not just any fairy sword. It was Geea’s! The weapon Geea had worn while she slept in the kloudar the last thirteen years had been Amma’s sword. How did that come to be, Ali asked herself.

  Long ago, her mother and Geea must have arranged for her to have this weapon—probably because it was the most powerful in the entire elemental kingdom. But exactly how they had managed the feat, Ali was not sure.

  Clearly, Amma possessed the gift of prescience—the ability to see into the future. How far and accurate the gift extended, Ali did not know. But somehow Amma had seen that her daughter would one day arrive at Mt. Shasta and need a weapon. For now, Ali was just happy to have it, and was not in the mood to figure out exactly how it came to be there. What mattered most was that she was returning to fight her sister with two distinct advantages—the sword and Hector.

  With the diving bell lying outside the cave, they cautiously crept into the interior of Mt. Shasta. Hector asked if he could use a flashlight.

  “It will signal our approach,” Ali warned.

  “Won’t she know we’re coming anyway?”

  “Probably. Use the light.”

  He turned it on. “How do you see in the dark?”

  “I don’t know,” Ali said honestly.

  “I assume you know how to use that sword?”

  Ali made a slashing cut. “I feel like I was born with it in my hand.”

  Because they had to walk, it took them time to reach Sheri. They came out of the tunnel on her left, behind her. Casually munching on a sandwich, Sheri didn’t even turn to acknowledge their arrival. Not until she’d washed down her meal with a bottle of water did she address them.

  “Why did you come, Hector?” Sheri asked without turning.

  “Ali told me you were in trouble,” Hector said.

  Sheri finally looked over. “I doubt she put it that way.”

  “Does it matter? You are in trouble, and I’m here to help.”

  The bomb was even more ugly up close. Its gray hide was stenciled with black code numbers, and Ali noticed the paint was rusted and chipped in several places. Yet there was a shiny stainless steel plate on the side, with fresh screws in it. Ali guessed that was where the new detonator had been installed. She could actually smell the new plastic explosives. From what she had read online, this was a three-stage bomb. It had a fission trigger—made of plutonium; a fusion core—made of hydrogen and helium isotopes; and an outer shell—constructed of uranium 238. The bomb was called “dirty,” because when it detonated, it left behind a massive amount of radioactive fallout.

  It gave Ali an odd feeling to stare up and down the cave, and see how they were walled in. She just wished there was a deserted mountain at the end of one of the tunnels that they could push the bomb through—and let it explode harmlessly. She suspected the weapon had been rigged to detonate no matter what they did to it.

  Sheri seemed to read Ali’s mind.

  “If you try to move it, the thing will go off,” she said.

  “But you must know a way to turn it off,” Ali said.

  Sheri shrugged. “You’re welcome to try your hand at it. Or else you can try shoving it down the tunnel that leads to your boyfriend’s home. Where’s he from by the way? Oh yeah, Tanzania. That must make dating difficult. Then again, you know how to fly.”

  “How come you haven’t flown away?” Ali asked.

  “I’ve been waiting for your gutsy return.” Sheri nodded toward Ali’s abdomen. “You heal quickly.”

  Ali raised her sword. “Probably quicker than you, I think.”

  Sheri smiled. “But I know that you know that killing me won’t help your cause.” She scooted off the bomb and walked toward them. Ali quickly moved to the right, to give herself room to maneuver, forming what had to be one of the most unstable triangles in all of history.

  Yet Sheri made no threatening move. Hector held her attention.

  “Why did you come?” she asked again.

  He spread his hands. “A couple of mornings ago I get a call to come watch my daughter. A daughter I don’t even know I have. A daughter from a woman who I didn’t even know was still alive.” He stopped. “Isn’t that reason enough for me to be here?”

  Sheri nodded. “I could say I am sorry, but at this point I suppose that would sound a little trite.”

  “You can still say it,” Hector replied.

  Sheri forced a smile. Ali noticed she never took her hand off the hilt of her sword. For that reason, Ali magnified the strength of her shield. Sheri was most dangerous when she appeared most vulnerable.

  “I’m sorry,” Sheri said.

  Hector was annoyed. “For what exactly? That you faked your death and left me grieving for years? Or are you sorry that you would come to me in the middle of the night—and then in the morning make me forget you had ever been there?”

  “I thought it would be better—for your sake—that I made you forget.”

  “You didn’t think to ask my opinion, did you?” Hector snapped, bitterness in his voice.

  Sheri looked truly hurt. “What did I have to offer you anyway? If you knew who I was, then you could only pity me. Pretending to look beautiful wouldn’t work with you. At least as long as I remained dead . . .” She didn’t finish.

  Hector glared at her. “Go on. At least as long as you remained dead, you could seduce me in the middle of the night when you were in the mood. That’s the truth, Lucy, isn’t it?”

  “Hector . . .” Sheri began.

  “Oh. And you did all this with me while you were in the middle of preparing to destroy the Earth. Let’s not forget that. That’s sort of important, don’t you think?”

  Sheri shrugged. “You’ve only heard Ali’s side of the story when it comes to this invasion. There’s a purpose behind it. A noble purpose. It’s called survival.”

  “This noble purpose calls for the death of how many billions?” he asked.

  Sheri spoke with passion. “The Earth is desperately overcrowded. It cannot continue to exist without major changes. Yes, billions might die, it’s possible. I admit these changes will be painful. But all significant change—whether on a personal or on a social level—is always painful.” Sheri added, “It’s where the phrase ‘tough love’ comes from.”

  Hector sighed. “Love has nothing to do with what you’re planning.”

  “How would you know?” she snapped back.

  “Because you can’t even look me in the eye. In fact, you won’t even let me see how yo
ur eyes really look.” Hector reached out his hand to steer her chin so that she had to look him in the eye. But she slapped the hand away with her gloved hands. He nodded when he saw the gloves. “The scars are still there, for both of us. Why do you bother to cover them up?”

  Sheri snorted. “You have the nerve to compare your scars to mine?”

  “I never said that.”

  “Then what are you saying? After the accident, you went to jail for a few months. Big deal. Then, after I was gone, there was never any shortage of women in your life.”

  “Sure. There was a parade of women going in and out of my house. Since you died—since I thought you died—I’ve had just one serious relationship.” Hector paused. “And I never loved Patricia the way I loved you.”

  “I couldn’t tell from the way you behaved around her.”

  Hector’s face darkened. “Is that why you killed her?”

  Sheri looked as if she had been struck. “Who told you that?”

  Ali spoke. “Steve did. My friend. Before you had him killed.”

  “Is that also true?” Hector asked quietly. “Did you kill that boy?”

  Sheri looked away. “No.”

  “She had someone else kill him. But she gave the order,” Ali said.

  Sheri gave her a look to kill. “What do you know? You weren’t even there.”

  Ali nodded. “No. I wasn’t there. That’s why he died. I was a couple of minutes late. But the guy who stabbed Steve’s heart—he worked for you. I’m surprised you’re afraid to admit it. That’s a change. You usually love to boast about your cruelties. But I suppose that technique doesn’t work so well in front of the one man you still love.”

  Sheri glared at her. “Who says I love anyone?”

  “If that’s true, why did you have Nira?” Hector asked.

  Sheri whirled on him, to scream, to shout, whatever. But then she stopped, and it was as if all the hate in her expression fell to the floor. “Nira,” she whispered. “Nira was an accident.”

  Hector didn’t believe her, nor did Ali. “If she had been an accident, you wouldn’t have kept her,” he said.

  There was a long pause. The clock ticked. The one inside the bomb. Ali had no idea how much time they had left. She assumed they were safe, for now, because Sheri did not act in a hurry to leave. But maybe that was a dangerous assumption. It was clear the woman was not operating with a full deck of cards. Sheri shook her head, spoke in a mocking tone.

  “This is crazy—talking about these things right now. Our personal problems pale when compared to what’s going to happen to the world in the coming days. A new order is taking over, and it’s simple—you’re either for it or you’re against it. If you’re against it, you’re going to die.”

  “Then I’ll die. I’m against it,” Hector said.

  Sheri stared at him like he was a fool. “You don’t even know what you’re rejecting! Listen to me, Hector, the things . . .”

  “I’m rejecting you!” he interrupted. “What you’ve become. Ali told me you were a murderer, and you know what? I didn’t believe it, not until this moment. Pretty stupid, huh? You’re sitting on top of a nuclear bomb and I’m still thinking, but you’re Lucy Pillar—the kind-hearted girl I used to love. Lucy wouldn’t hurt a soul. Well, I was wrong and Ali was right. The way I feel right now, I wish you had died the night of the power plant explosion.”

  Sheri forced a vicious smile. “I love how you stand there and judge me for the sins you think I’ve committed. Let me tell you something. Ever since you ran your truck into that tree and I burned, I’ve had to make a thousand hard choices. Not one of them has been easy!”

  “Lucy . . .” Hector began. But she cut him off.

  “Or have you forgotten about that day? How many beers you had that afternoon?”

  “That was an accident,” Hector said.

  Ali interrupted. “It was no accident. When I saw the Entity, it admitted that it programmed Hector to smash his truck into that tree in that precise manner. It used the Internet to program him. So that you would burn, Doren. So that it would have that lever over you.”

  Sheri went to snap at her, then stopped. “Is that true?”

  Ali nodded. “You can hear the truth when it’s spoken.”

  Hector was shocked. “That was not an accident?”

  “Nothing that’s led up to this moment has been an accident,” Ali said. “Another thing, Doren. When I was with the Entity, they offered me your job. They’re going to kill you the second they don’t need you. Which will probably be ten seconds after this bomb goes off.”

  Sheri shook her head. “I’m to rule this world!”

  “The Entity does not create rulers. You of all people should know that. It only creates thralls.”

  “You just want to take over! You’ll use the Yanti to . . .”

  “I gave the Yanti away,” Ali interrupted. “Remember?”

  Sheri froze. “You really gave it to Nira?”

  “Yes.”

  “Why would you give up so much power?”

  “It doesn’t belong to me, or to you. It belongs in the hands of a goddess.” Ali added, “At least that’s one wonderful thing your love for Hector brought into the world.”

  Sadly, Sheri was too caught up in her thoughts of power and betrayal. Her sister couldn’t hear her. She couldn’t talk about Nira. Her mind was trapped in the pain of her past.

  “I came out of the blue light,” Doren muttered. “The Yanti should have been mine. Father should have given it to me, I was the oldest. The palace, too, it all should have been mine. And then, when I got burned, there was no one there to help me. No one there to heal me . . .”

  Ali felt a profound anguish at what she had to tell her next. Because it went way beyond life and death, or who was to be king and queen. It dealt with her sister’s soul.

  “Doren. The Entity has lied to you about something that is more important than this bomb and this war and everything else we’re talking about. This time, when you die—and I assure you they’ll murder you soon—the ice maidens will not come for you. You’ll not return to the love of the blue light. You’ll go to the Entity. You’ll become one of them, and you’ll be trapped in that evil realm forever. No one knows better than you the horror they’re capable of. Think, Doren, remember what they did to Tulas. Look at Hector, right now, and remember Tulas. Please! Remember what they did to him!”

  The expression on Sheri’s face altered. But it did not shift toward reason as Ali had hoped. In that moment, Ali saw she had gone too far. Pushed buttons so painful, and so deeply buried, that merely to draw near them was enough to precipitate an avalanche.

  Sheri lost control of the illusion that held her beauty intact. As it broke, the shock of her endless scars leapt out. Instinctively, Hector took a step back. It was not his fault. The sudden horror of her ruined face would have shaken anyone. But it might have been the most fatal step backward the world had ever known.

  Sheri suddenly raised her sword. Her voice came out crazed.

  “You’re saying I’m already damned for eternity? I know that! Just look at the way Tulas looks at me now. Look at the way Hector wants to embrace his dear Lucy. I’m better off going into the purple light. Who cares if the Entity knows no love? What difference does that make to me? When have I ever had love?”

  Sheri swung her sword at Ali then. Ali saw it coming and ducked. Her sister’s blade struck the ground, and there was an explosion of light and fire. Sheri pivoted and swung at Ali again. This time Ali met her squarely, blade against blade, and the noise of that metallic clash was strong enough to make any human being go deaf.

  Maybe that was why Hector did what he did next. For even though Ali shouted at him to stand back, he did not appear to hear her. As Ali darted left and right, trying to slip under her sister’s guard—and as Sheri made several countermoves—Hector held up his arms and stepped between them.

  “Stop. Please,” he said.

  The timing could not have be
en worse. On the verge of fooling her sister, Ali presented to Sheri what appeared to be a major opening. Her sister went for it, with a powerful stroke Sheri surely believed would be fatal. And it was fatal—it was just that her blade pierced Hector’s chest instead of Ali’s. It struck him deep in the center. The amount of blood that gushed out said it all. The blade had gone through his heart. Even as Sheri pulled out her sword, Hector began to fall. Ali had to drop her own blade to catch him. It didn’t matter. There could be no last-second healing. He was already dead.

  Even though Geea had ordered Lord Vak, Lord Balar, General Tapor, and Ra to remain behind underground—they rushed with her to the surface. They were anxious to see what remained of the enemy’s army, and what the unleashed fury of Lake Mira had done to the Crystal Palace. And, of course, they all wanted a piece of Doren.

  Two facts caused them to drop their guard. Every single creature belonging to the Shaktra had been washed away. There wasn’t a drone in sight, never mind a measly dark fairy or a scalii. Even their foul corpses had been vanquished. It was as if the gentle green sea—to the far west—had changed its shape and mood and opened up an angry maw and swallowed the evil creatures.

  Also, as they returned to the surface, they went straight to Geea’s quarters, the highest point in the palace; and the latter inevitably gave them a false sense of security. They all knew the position and structure of the bedroom made it practically inaccessible from the outside.

  However, none of that mattered to the Shaktra. Riding a huge dragon that had clearly disobeyed Drash’s final order to retreat, Doren had the audacity to crash through the bedroom’s balcony window.

  The boldness of the attack caught them all by surprise.

  They were given no time to prepare a defense. A blast from the dragon incinerated General Tapor. The brave fairy turned to ash where he stood. Yet they were fortunate to have Lord Balar with them. Dwarves wore the heaviest armor, and were especially skilled at killing dragons—or so Ra had been told.

  Certainly, Lord Balar had killed a few in his days. He was the first to move, and a bold move it was. He leapt directly onto the back of the beast and chopped off its head with his ax. He was an experienced warrior. He must have known that the move left his back exposed, but he took the risk anyway.